


But Tonight, You Belong To me

by rumham (SolivagantSleepyhead)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blood, Kevin is very delusional, Like, M/M, Scarification, a decent amount of blood, and nobody is happy at all, based off of episode 70, least of all carlos, pro-tip: don't read this????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:06:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantSleepyhead/pseuds/rumham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has finally come to terms with the fact that he belongs in Night Vale, with Cecil. </p><p>Kevin has other plans, however. </p><p>=======================================<br/>(About 80% Welcome to night Vale, 20% LiarLiar, but 100% fucked up)<br/>Just to clarify: This is in no way attempting to condone rape for fetishistic purposes. As a victim of sexual assault myself, I'm trying to convey manipulation in an accurate way, in terms of how the victim is affected--especially considering the stigma of it in society, and how it leads to many victims being too afraid to seek out professional help or even to tell their loved ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Tonight, You Belong To me

**Author's Note:**

> ya, im not going to heaven

The first time that Kevin set eyes on him, there was a definite reaction. His heart raced, a cold chill shattered down his spine—a visceral feeling of _this was meant to be_. It was as if a piece of himself that he had been without and never realized before had slid exquisitely into place. His golden mahogany skin was glowing brilliantly under the bright desert sun, soft, curly hair glinting in the ethereal light, as if _he_ were the one exuding it. Kevin watched the man reach one long-fingered hand to his face and readjust his glasses, his lips soundlessly shaping word after word as he reevaluated the papers on his clipboard.

He was stunning. Marvelous. Magnificent.

Running his tongue restlessly against his crooked teeth, Kevin wiped his sweaty palms on his blood-stained trousers, unable to look away from this supernova come to life.

This uninhibited perfection known as _Carlos Santos_.

Kevin found himself drawn to Carlos like a moth to a flame, feeling sorely as if he would wither away to nothing on the days when he did not see the other. Of course, Carlos was more often than not busy—he was, after all, a _scientist—_ but that was okay, that just meant that Kevin would have to pay closer attention. There wasn’t anyone else to keep Carlos safe and happy and, naturally, _perfect_. And Carlos did _so_ appreciate the help, as the soldiers of the Masked Army tended to be too volatile to count as decent assistants.

And Kevin didn't mind of Carlos had a...a _boyfriend._ Although, _maybe_ thinking about them made his skin crawl a _little_ , his stomach twisting in something that was...probably just happiness! He certainly _didn't_ sit around loathing the fact that he was every bit as good as Cecil was—had _everything_ the other had—except for that which he wanted the _most_. But, because Cecil had met Carlos first, _he_ got to know what Carlos’ skin felt like beneath his hands, what it was like to hold that small, warm body close to his own, how his voice sounded, when he was lost in the throes of—

Anyways. He didn't mind it if he couldn't have Carlos. Just being near the other was intoxicating enough (and the way he looked when he slept, _ooh_!).

Sure, it was...a _little_ irritating to see Cecil there, in _their_ little desert paradise. But he knew that Cecil was not a permanent facet in their lives; he belonged in Night Vale, and soon he would return there, and Carlos would be all his, once more. And, for that assurance, he was willing to let slide the glances Cecil gave Carlos—the lingering touches where just anyone—ANYONE—could see. Because. Because Cecil was impermanent, a _tourist_ , but Carlos had chosen _this_ place to be his home.

But, when Kevin caught word that Cecil was planning to-to _leave_ Night Vale to join ( _come between come between come **between**_ **)** he and Carlos in the Desert Otherworld, he felt angry, as is to be expected.

Although, what he had felt then was nothing compared to how absolutely, inconceivably _livid_ he felt after reading Carlos’ letter.

All of a sudden, it was as if something within himself had given way, releasing months of pent up, barely-restrained frustration. After a year of being fully devoted to Carlos, acting as his assistant, his friend, his confidante—Kevin couldn't help the rush of betrayal deep in his bones. Cecil had had his chance with Carlos, and there _obviously_ couldn't be much to miss if Carlos had initially outright refused to return to Night Vale. For all intents and purposes, the Carlos of the Desert Otherworld wasn't Cecil's at all! Unlike Kevin, who had worked day in and day out to protect Carlos, what had Cecil done? Whined over the telephone? Said useless _words_ , as if they were anything but a waste of breath! And this—this is how he is repaid for all of his care, all of his _love_?

No...no. Kevin had _earned_ Carlos. He _deserved_ to have him.

And he was going to.

Even if he had to take matters into his own hands. 

After closing down the radio station, it didn't take long to catch up with the other, despite Carlos’ head start. The sand beneath his feet gave way silently as he stalked the other through the darkness, a predator on his prey—and feeling every bit the part. The muscles of his face ached vaguely, unnaturally contorted as they into the frown that now split across it. Restless fingers wound into tight fists by his sides, jagged nails sharp against his skin as he hastened his steps. And Carlos, too preoccupied with his thoughts (as he often was), was none the wiser.

Too surprised to even let out a yelp as he was pulled backwards, Carlos felt his lungs lurch in a sharp gasp as his back collided with someone's chest. Strong arms wrapped around him, effectively ruining any chance at a struggle he had.

"Who are you—let me _go_!" He cried, not even hoping to keep his composure at this point, the sickly iron scent of blood overwhelming his senses—his voice tense with fear.

"Oh, my _precious_ Carlos, surely someone as intelligent as you could infer who _I_ am." Kevin purred beside his ear, relishing in the shiver that traveled down the other’s spine.

“K-Kevin?” Carlos gaped, awash with fear and confusion. “What are you doing? Please—you have to let me go, I need to get back to Cecil!” He’d known that Kevin would not be happy with his decision, but…they were still friends, right? Kevin would never, ever hurt him, _right_?

Kevin felt his lips creeping back into a frown. Ugh, why did he have to go and mention Cecil? Was being together not _enough_? Carlos was never the most observant person, but he was far from oblivious; he had to have seen just how _perfect_ they would be together!

“I don’t think I _have_ to do anything, Carlos,” He laughed tensely, his long nails tracing lazy circles down the other’s hip. “and I also don’t think that you _need_ to leave—not so soon. You obviously haven’t thought this over much, my dear… Why don’t we go back to my house, and we can talk this over, alright? Night Vale will still be there when—excuse me— _if_ , you decide to go back!” He smiled, tracing his nose against Carlos’s temple. Naturally, Carlos would calm down after a bit, and he’d come to his senses and realize that he _belonged_ in the newDesert Bluffs. And, hopefully, he’d see that _they_ too were meant to be together!

Carlos swallowed thickly. He was irritated by Kevin’s persistence, but he couldn’t fight the sense that the other was horribly _off_ , somehow. He felt Kevin’s nose brush against his skin, offset by the unwelcome and—in any other situation—tender brush of fingers at his hips. It was all too strange, too abrupt to be casual.

Still, against, his better judgement, Carlos felt himself rambling. “Please, Kevin, I do need to go. I don’t—don’t belong here, I see that now. I appreciate all of your help, but I should be heading home, okay? I promise that I’ll come back to visit sometime, but right now I need to go!”

“Oh, but _Carlos_ , of course you belong here!” Kevin grinned, tightening his hold on Carlos’ body so that they were pressed flush together, the fresh blood coating his clothes and skin speckling the places where it met with the other’s lab coat in a deep crimson. “Don’t you see? You belong here, because this is where _I_ am. I _love_ you, Carlos—probably more than _Cecil_ ever could.”

Carlos redoubled his struggling at that, despite the nearly bone-crushing hold the other had around his arms and waist. “Kevin, that’s—!” Carlos fought for words, only now feeling the true gravity of the situation fall upon him. “I’m. I’m sorry that you feel that way! But, I don’t see… _us_ that way. You’re a friend of mine, but I love Cecil, and I need to see him, okay?” _Let me go, let me go, let me **go**_ —

Kevin just giggled at that, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his auburn hair. “Dearest Carlos, you’re so _sweet_ , acting coy with me like this!” He cooed, a sharp squeeze of his arms immediately suppressing Carlos’ incessant wriggling. “Of course you love me back, you’re just too afraid to say it! You don’t _really_ want to leave me; you’re just afraid of how strongly you feel, so you’re trying to run, but I won’t let you go that easily!”

Thick fingers closed firmly around Carlos’ biceps, and, before he knew what was happening, he was turned to face Kevin. His obsidian eyes glinted menacingly in the far off lights of their desert community, a voracious grin stretched across his face—for once, more monster than man.

Carlos gasped, bringing his trembling hands to the bloodied sleeves of Kevin’s shirt. “W-what are you—”

“Showing you that we **belong** together.” Kevin smiled at him in false-sweetness, watching the other take a stunted breath as he was roughly shoved down into the sand.

Although the sand cushioned the brunt of Carlos’ fall, the impact stirred the particles into the air and into his eyes and open mouth, causing him to choke and tear up as the microscopic fragments invaded him. His distraction was the perfect opportunity for Kevin, who reached down and took both of his weak wrists into a large fist. He pinned them above Carlos’ head, leaving him helpless to fight back as the other kneeled over his prone body.

“Carlos, my darling; you have no idea how I have longed for this.” Kevin whispered, leaning down to place a teasing bite on Carlos’ exposed clavicle, chucking to himself as the other tensed beneath him.

 _Surely he doesn’t mean to_ …? Carlos thought to himself, horrified at the very implication. _How…how could he ever face Cecil again, after this? How could he go back to Night Vale and recount every moment of his abuse to the man who loved him more than anything else?_

_…How could he even look at himself, after this?_

Carlos was shocked from the deluge of his worry by the sensation of the cold night air ghosting across his skin. And looking down, he realized that Kevin had used his free hand to shred his shirt straight down the middle while he had been caught up in his thoughts. He shivered against the cool air, a whine bubbling in his throat as that clawed hand traced its way down his exposed flesh.

“Kevin, please! If you love me then just—just let me go; I don’t _like_ this!” He cried, turning his head away as Kevin’s lips settled somewhere against his chest. His thrumming pulse roared in his ears, his breath ragged and rapidly nearing the point of hyperventilation. “Please don't hurt me.” He added quietly, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears.

Kevin seemed to pause at that, lifting his mouth away from the mark he had been sucking on Carlos’ chest. “Hurt you?” He repeated, something like amusement in his voice. “Now why ever would I do that? I could _never_ hurt anything so beautiful—never mar someone as _perfect_ as you, my sweet!” He smiled, stroking a hand down Carlos’ cheek in an odd ghost of affection. “I just want to remind you who it is you _truly_ belong with.”

And, at that, the hand on Carlos’ face trailed down to his trousers, deftly slipping the button open and pulling down the zipper in one fluid motion.

“Stop—please!” Carlos gasped, the tears finally overflowing down his face. His whole body shook violently, his interjection punctuated by a harsh sob as he felt Kevin’s hand palm roughly at his penis through his boxers.

“Shh, sweet Carlos. You’re crying now, but that will just allow you to better appreciate how _happy_ you’ll be once this is over! _Then_ you’ll see that we’re simply meant to be.” Kevin hushed him, removing his hand from Carlos’ underwear as he began undoing his own necktie.

His serene, loving gaze contradicted his hands, which grabbed at Carlos’ bruised wrists as they were knotted within Kevin’s discarded necktie, forcing the bound appendages behind his back. With both hands free, Kevin leaned back, grasping at the edges of Carlos’ trousers as he pulled them off entirely.

Now between Carlos’ legs, Kevin used his knees to force the other’s thighs apart, leaving Carlos nowhere to hide from his roving gaze has he was spread out vulnerably upon the sand, wrists bound and numbing under his weight, legs splayed on either side of his assaulter.

Leaning down, Kevin nuzzled against Carlos’ chest, his right hand toying with a rosy nipple while the left sliced away the thin cotton of his boxers, leaving him entirely exposed. Carlos trembled uncontrollably, biting so hard into his lip to keep from screaming that he could taste a warm trickle of blood from some unidentified puncture wound in the chapped skin. He had never before known what it was like to feel powerless. He regretted ever trusting this…this _monster._ But, more than that, he regretted his indecision. This wasn’t his fault—could _never_ be his fault—but had he realized months ago, weeks ago, _yesterday, for fucks’ sake_ that he didn’t belong here, then maybe he could have avoided all of this.

Maybe he could be at home, with Cecil, warm and happy and _safe_. He would trade anything for that.

A finger dipped between his tender inner thighs, and Carlos choked on a terrified sob. The blood from his lip spilled over his chin, trailing a sluggish line down his jaw as he struggled to twist away from the other. His fighting only seemed to spur Kevin on, leaning down to lap at the blood, his fingers still prodding experimentally at his ass.

“Even your _blood_ is the sweetest there’s ever been, my love~” Kevin hummed excitedly, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed down on the petrified body beneath himself. “Surely you wouldn’t mind if I took a little more…”

Without even waiting for a response, Kevin sunk a single talon into the delicate flesh of Carlos’ chest, right above his heart. Carlos cried out in agony as the digit trailed a curving pattern nearly the size of his own fist, followed immediately by the sting of blood rising to the surface. Just when it seemed like Kevin was finally done, the pain returned, this time more stunted—sharp bursts of pain in quick succession, and Carlos realized with a renewed horror that Kevin was _writing_ something.

When Kevin was finally satisfied, his face split into that awful grin again, a hand reaching down to cradle Carlos’ head. “Now, everyone will know just who you were meant to be with!” He giggled, using his grip on Carlos’ neck to force him to look down at the mess of blood upon his chest. There, in the deep lacerations across his chest, was the shape of a heart, traced above his own. Even through his hazy vision, Carlos immediately knew what was written within the heart, and he let out a hopeless sob at the sight of it—a permanent reminder of who had done this to him.

 _Kevin_.

“Oh Carlos, look at you! You’re crying with _joy_!” Kevin beamed, his lips smeared thickly with Carlos’ slowly congealing blood. “I _knew_ that you would love this. Now, let’s get started on the best part, shall we~?”

Carlos was mortified to realize that, while he had been distracted with the scarification, Kevin had used that as an opportunity to slip his fingers inside of him. He wanted to beg for it to stop, to make Kevin hesitate, just for long enough to let him leave, but he knew that it was futile. Kevin was delusional; he didn’t care if Carlos wanted this or not—that much he had proven. All that mattered was his little fantasy. Resigned to the idea that id he didn’t struggle, it would end sooner, Carlos simply turned his tear-soaked face to the side and closed his eyes, pretending he was anywhere— _anywhere_ —but there.

Kevin seemed more than fine with this response, if the way he peppered kisses across Carlos’ jaw were anything to go by. He added a third finger, but he could feel himself growing impatient quickly. As much as he wanted to cherish taking Carlos in this way, he knew that time was of the essence. Eventually, someone was bound to notice that they had disappeared, and the sooner this was over with, the sooner he could take his precious Carlos back home! Besides, Carlos wasn’t _actively_ trying to fight him anymore (preserving his virtue—how _cute_ ~), so it would go a lot more easily, now.

Carlos breathed a sigh of tense relief when he felt Kevin remove his fingers. Praying to whatever deity would listen that Kevin had changed his mind, and would let him leave hurt and humiliated, instead of absolutely scarred for life.

But Carlos had always been a skeptic, and it seemed that the gods knew that, too.

Something blunt and rounded pushed against his entrance, and Carlos renewed his sobbing, instinctually struggling against the strong hand closed around his hip, holding him into the sand. “Don’t— _please_!” He wept, but it was to no avail. Undeterred and a little irritated by his distress, if the bruising grip was anything to go by, Kevin continued pushing in to him. Carlos felt something within him give. Lightning sharp pain exploded from his lower back, followed a trickle of something he tried to believe _wasn’t_ his own blood slipped down his thigh, overshadowing the lingering burn from his still-bleeding chest.

When Kevin was fully sheathed inside of him, he didn’t even wait a moment for Carlos’ body to adjust to the trauma, immediately working up a brutal pace as Carlos writhed beneath him, desperately fighting to get away. His hands held Carlos’ hips tightly, keeping him pressed against the sand as he leaned down to lick the drying blood from his chest.

“You feel absolutely _amazing,_ Carlos!” Kevin groaned, smiling rapturously against the torn skin of his clavicle. Carlos’ chest heaved painfully, nearly hyperventilating as he struggled to breathe through the pain, the panic. “I’ve wanted to do this for _such_ a long time, and now that we’re in _love_ ,” Kevin paused, his serpentine tongue flitting out to gather more of Carlos’ blood from his own upper lip. “we can _always_ be together like this!”

Carlos screwed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, the pain almost too much to handle. All of these sensations were slowly coalescing into a hazy singularity, like a dream. He’d read about it in a medical journal once, that victims of severe mental trauma would sometimes dissociate from their experiences in order to protect themselves. It was a helpful evolutionary process, he was sure—but that didn’t help him from feeling betrayed. If _only_ this had been a dream. He would give anything to have the luxury of pretending that this wasn’t happening. The sounds, the hands, the burning point where their bodies meant with every cruel thrust—that was all too real to ignore.

It was, to Carlos, an unmeasurable amount of time until he registered the fact that Kevin was moving faster, becoming more frantic in his actions. He had been babbling all the while, mumbling disgustingly saccharine words against Carlos’ skin, completely ignorant to the situation at hand. Although Carlos was just thankful that the torment would soon end, he couldn’t help but worry over the question of what would happen next. Going off of what the other had said alone…he couldn’t help the fear that Kevin _would_ force him to go back. Would he have to keep acting as though he cared for his-his _rapist_? Just to ensure his own protection until he could run?

Oh, _god_ , what was he going to do?

Kevin groaned lowly against Carlos’ jaw as he came, their chests pressed flush together and his hands gripping the other tight enough to leave clusters of dark bruises. Carlos stayed limp, refusing to cry out in pain, lest it further incite the other. Instead, he thought about Night Vale, about Cecil. He wondered what he would say when— _if_ —he ever got the chance to go home. As Kevin laid atop him, panting too cold breath against his throat, Carlos imagined the life he left behind to stay _here,_ in this strange place, with these people who had done little but hurt him recently. He’d never realized how much he had sacrificed by staying.

“Oh, Carlos—that was absolutely _perfect_.” Kevin mumbled, finally pulling free of Carlos as he ran a reverent hand down the other’s face, wiping the fresh tear tracks away. “There, there, everything’s fine. Let’s go back home!”

Kevin got to his feet, tucking himself back into his trousers as he glanced down at Carlos, who had yet to move an inch, his head still wrenched to the side, eyes closed tightly. He sighed, kneeling down beside the other. Leaning Carlos’ exhausted body up with one hand at the small of his back, Kevin began untying his bruised, reddened wrists. When he was finished, he gently lowered Carlos back down, placing a soft kiss against his temple as he rose to his feet once more.

“Well, I’ll just head back without you, darling. I trust you to make the right decision now that I _know_ you love me back!” Kevin beamed, brushing a lock of hair from Carlos’ eyes before retreating towards the impossibly far-off lights of their desert community. Carlos shuddered in his wake, wounded and traumatized, stripped naked and far from home. At his side, he saw his glasses, which had been knocked from his face during the earlier altercation. The lenses had been smashed in from the impact, golden gravel filling the cracks between jagged edges too small to see out of.

He let out a trembling sigh, too exhausted to cry anymore.

Carlos dressed as quickly as he could, wincing at the pain that seemed to radiate throughout his body. He couldn’t bring himself to glance back in the direction that Kevin had gone, instead limping, as best he could, back in the direction of Night Vale—the direction of _home_. It took a long, long time to get there, but he was thankful for the distraction; anything to keep his mind off of _it._ He knew that Cecil would be out at the opera house, so he slipped inside, took the most unsatisfying shower of his life, redressed, and set out. As he wandered through the streets, he went over exactly what he wanted to say; the best phrasing, the way that would make Cecil the _least_ miserable.

And, when he finally saw him, he knew he couldn’t say it. Instead, he hugged his perfect boyfriend. Told himself that maybe not today or tomorrow, but…someday. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> please don't ask me what this vent-fic is venting about i will karate chop your ass into the motherfucking SUN


End file.
